Anne DeCuir, Chp. 3, Gen. 4, 1770

~April, 1770~
Dear Diary:

       It has been four years now.  Four years of scilents silence.  I did not even cry out when I stubbed my toe on the last step to the privy, or that time when I got a sharp splinter on my heal heel!  Though I can tell Father is not at all happy with my silence, it is a choice I made, and it is for the better.  I do not want to dissapoint disappoint with my words that only seemed to make Father unhappy.  I keep telling myself that if he seems unhappy now, he would be even more upset if I was were speaking.  It's just something I must remember.

     Aunt Abigail has been tootoring tutoring me with English and French.  I can tell she thinks it's extremely important for me to be educated, especially if I am 'mute' as Father and she call it.  But, we work on listening skills, and, though I do not speak, I silently form the letters of the alphabet with my mouth.  I understand people when they talk to me.  It's just me who does not respond.  I know Abigail wants me to talk again, but for now, she insists that I write in this diary.

     Aunt Abigail and Father have been holding their breth breathe breath about the tea tax, because the Townshend Ax Acts have taken many taxs  taxes away but the tea tax is still in affect effect.  And Aunt Abigail do loves her tea!  Father is mad at her because she still byes bys buys the tea dispit despite the taxes on it, and we are low on money.  We are so low that I do not have a pair of shoes.   That's how I got the splinter, and there's another brown line on my foot and I'm really hopeing hoping it's not a second splinter...

     I read in the newspaper that something called the 'Boston Massaker  Massacre' happened on March 5 of this year.  A mob of people gathered and were angry with the British, and some British soldiers injured a handful of peopel people!  Father and Aunt Abigail are very upset over this matter.  I am scared to ask them about it, and I have a feeling they do not know that I know...

     Until next time,
          Anne DeCuir

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     Abigail felt nearly hopeless.  Money was scarce, as ever since she had let Melatiah and Anne live with her, food seemed to become more and more expensive.  Not that Abigail wanted her cousin to leave.  In fact, she had grown quite close to Anne, instinctively becoming the mother Anne never had; however, Abigail was a tad annoyed that Melatiah had told her that their stay would be temporary when it was evidently not, and the fact that Melatiah was not helping with the finances.
     
     Abigail's stomach growled, and she swallowed hard.  The cellar did not hold much more food.  All that was left was a dozen tomatoes, four green peppers, a few apples, and a small bag of wheat.  Worried, Abigail willed her upset stomach to calm down.  She would save any food she had left for little Anne, but the gnawing pain was hard to ignore.


     Determined to make a difference, an idea struck her.


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     She gazed at the brownish seed, a seed of hope.  Abigail prayed that this seed would grow an apple tree many feet taller than herself, tall enough to grow dozens and dozens of apples; apple pie, apple cobbler, applesauce, apple mush, apple-you-name-it.  Enough apples to keep the family full.

     Abigail dropped the seed into the ground and covered it up with a mound of dirt.  She patted it with a encouraging hand.

     Abigail spent all morning planting a small garden in the midday heat.  Her forehead was beaded with sweat, but Abigail was a woman on a mission to save her family from starvation.  And Melatiah would help her or else he would need to find a new home.  Abigail would offer to take care of Anne, but Melatiah needed to earn his keep.

     When she had finished planting a patch of dirt full of apple seeds, tomato seeds, lettuce seeds, and pepper seeds, Abigail stood up and wiped her dirt covered hands on her apron.  
     "If only seeds would grow into plants overnight!"  Abigail mused.

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     It was later that day that Abigail gathered the courage to confront her cousin.
     "Dear Melatiah, I urge you to escape your reverie and come to your senses!  We are losing money quickly and I am fearing starvation if we cannot earn some soon.  You have not been entirely truthful to me, and you need to help me pay off the expenses.  This is my house, after all.  I hope you still know that I am temporarily providing you a place to live.  The problem is that you have not been looking for a new house."

     "Well, I feel we have been living comfortably.  Whatever do you mean, Abigail?" 
     Abigail was angered.  "Comfortably? COMFORTABLY? I have NOT been living comfortably!  Neither has Anne!  Your daughter has no shoes, and you call that living comfortably?  I have been paying off the expenses of food for you and Anne.  How come you have not helped me?  You lied to me, said you would find a new place to take yourself and Anne! Not that I do not enjoy your company, but..."

     "How dare you!" Melatiah yelled.  "Are you saying we cannot live here anymore? Are you asking us to leave?"
     Abigail sneered.  "No.  I am saying you must help me.  And, how dare YOU?  I am a single woman without a job.  I have no higher level status in society, and you expect me to pay for everything!  Excuse me, but I don't care that I am a helpless woman in our society -- I don't care that I am not supposed to yell at you or talk back at you!" Her voice softened.  "I just want to provide for Anne a childhood that is as normal as possible, given the conditions.  Sorry, but, isn't that what you, as the father, are supposed to do?"

     "Yes, Abigail, you are correct in each respect.  I have been a terrible father and a terrible gentleman.  I keep telling myself that I need a little more time to sort things out, and that time keeps piling up.  And I never feel any better.  I know we, as cousins, have not always gotten along well, but I do apologize for everything I have not done to support you and my daughter.  I guess I just never expected my life to turn out the way it has."

     "And I can see that my daughter hates me, and that I have failed my late wife's wishes.  And now I have failed you."
     
     Abigail's anger disappeared.  "Things happen for a reason, my cousin.  You haven't failed your daughter yet.  And I always thought I would move far, far away from this house.  I was a very unhappy person, long ago.  But I am still here, and I am happy.  Part of that happiness is because of Anne.  I love her dearly, and I cannot imagine my life without her.  But it hurts me so much to see us struggling to give her what she deserves because of the lack of money.  I started a garden, earlier today.  I would appreciate it if you would help me garden it.  It could turn into a small farm if we work hard.  We could sell our produce.  And maybe your daughter would smile a little brighter and a little more often."

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Dear Diary:

     Aunt Abigail and Father have been working all week on a new garden.  I love to sit in the sun and watch them work.  Sometimes, if they let me, I like to run to the woods and gather fresh berries from a helthy  healthy bush.  Aunt Abigail makes jam and pie with the berries, or sometimes we eat them as a midday snack.


     Last night, Father said goodnight to me for the first time in a while.  He told me to practice smiling.  He told me I have a face full of sunshine when I smile.

     And so I do smile.  I pretend like my smile is the sun in the dark room around me.  And for the first time, I'm not afraid of the shadows in my room.  I smile myself to sleep because if my smile is like the sun, it scares off the shadows in my room. 

 
     I didn't even have a nightmare!  I dreamed of eating those tasty berries in the afternoon sun with Father and Aunt Abigail.

     Until next time,
          Anne DeCuir

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*The Antique Legacy*

Anne DeCuir